


Waxing Crescent

by GreyLady0928



Series: Waxing Crescent [1]
Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M, Slow Burn, Teen Angst, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:46:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26673130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyLady0928/pseuds/GreyLady0928
Summary: After six years of isolation, Nessie is finally allowed into the human world. But she finds that books and research don't explain everything. Like, how to deal with romantic feelings she has for her best friend, Jacob Black. How will she handle these new life experiences? Follow Nessie in her journey of self-actualization as she encounters crushes, high school, friends, drama, and the strange experience of being imprinted to a werewolf alpha.
Relationships: Jacob Black/Renesmee Cullen
Series: Waxing Crescent [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1940797
Kudos: 5
Collections: Twilight FanFiction, Twilight FanFiction Collection, Twilight: Wolfpack Fics





	Waxing Crescent

**Author's Note:**

> It’s been a while since I wrote a fanfiction piece. Maybe eight years? I recently dove into the world of Twilight again after reading Midnight Sun. It occurred to me that Jacob and Nessie’s relationship would be complicated and interesting to read. Lucky for me, a lot of others felt the same and wrote great fanfictions about them! 
> 
> This story came to me one day while working out and I thought to add my perspective to the bunch! I like the idea of Nessie being clueless about "common knowledge" but still having "advanced intelligence". While she is frustrated with her "faults" she doesn't blame her family for her lack of "life experiences". She handles them the best way she knows how - analysis and observation. It causes a lot of awkward situations. Especially with her best friend Jacob, who is naturally charismatic and is very "emotionally intelligent". 
> 
> The maturity of this series will grow with Nessie. The first few chapters start when she is 12/13 and the rest will be when she is 17/18. Her and Jake's relationship won't be physical until much later. The way my outline is, it won't be physical until the second part of my "Waxing Crescent" series - "Waning Gibbous". So prepare for the slow burn. 
> 
> I have a rough outline of the story. So hopefully, I’ll be able to update often.

**I have a crush.**

I wrote frantically into my journal. Almost ripping the paper with the force I exuded. I momentarily wondered if the confusion and anxiety I felt would melt away from my body if I pressed my pen down hard enough onto the paper. It didn’t…

Of course not.

That was illogical. Irrational. Just plain… stupid. And I, Renesmee Carlie Cullen, was NOT stupid.

At the physical age of 12/13, I could solve advanced calculus problems, debate philosophy points with my father, and discuss experimental medical research with my grandfather. Occasionally, I could even beat Uncle Jasper in a game of chess. But despite my advanced mind, I could not, for the life of me, sort out my feelings. 

I glared at the simple sentence I wrote in my journal. Desperately trying to will my frustration into the page in an attempt to shake my feelings. It didn't work. Again. _Of course not_ , I thought begrudgingly. 

It was my mother's idea to keep a journal.

XxX

I always felt comfortable confiding in my mom. Maybe it was the natural bond between mother and daughter or the fact that she was closer to her human experiences compared to my other family members. Whatever the reason, I felt safe around her.

In my four short years of existence, my mother never gave me a reason to feel embarrassed for asking silly questions. _So why did I feel so embarrassed now?_ I thought. 

It was Sunday night, and we were sitting at the dining room table in our little cottage. I picked at the lasagna she made for dinner while she read one of her Jane Austen books across the table. Even with my half-vampire vision, it was hard for me to tell which book it was. The cover was so worn from repeated use. But after closer examination, it looked like her copy of _Emma_. Not my favorite Jane Austen novel. The main character was a little annoying. 

The house was uncharacteristically quiet.

The “men” went hunting for grizzly bears that weekend. Dad, Grandpa Carlisle, Uncle Jasper, Uncle Emmett, and even Jake tagged along. I think Jake and Uncle Emmett had a bet to see who could take down the most grizzlies. The “ladies” went shopping in Port Angeles. Grandma Esme was inspired to redo the interior design of the Cullen House after watching a home makeover show on HGTV. Aunt Alice and Aunt Rose never needed much of an excuse to go shopping.

Neither mom nor I were big shoppers, so that left us alone for the weekend.

_Finally_ , I mentally sighed. _My thoughts and feelings are safe_.

I could let them flow and roam through me without any barriers. I loved my father and Uncle Jasper, but sometimes I needed to sort my thoughts and feelings without a prying mind reader or an emotional manipulator around.

But I had no such luck.

Despite having two whole days of free-thinking, I STILL couldn’t place these STUPID emotions.

I knew my mom could tell something was off about my mood. I’m sure everyone could tell. I saw their side glances. Nothing got past vampire eyes.

I wasn’t sure, but I had a feeling that mom shooed everyone away for the weekend so I had time alone to brood. So I wasn't surprised when she prompted me to talk during dinner after two long days of ruminating. I was, however, surprised by my response. _I guess this is the new me_ , I thought. _Explosive and irrational. Great_.

“Nessie, are you….” she started.

I slammed my fist down on the table. Still somehow rational enough to pull back my strength so I wouldn't break the nice table Grandma Esme’s got for my parents.

“I just can’t sort them out! They don’t make sense!” I bellowed. “I just don’t understand why I have them... or what’s causing them... or what to do with them…” I rambled on, not making much sense.

But before I continued with my fit of hysteria, my mom took me into her arms and flew into my room at vampire speed. I was a little old to be carried like this, but I didn’t protest. It still felt nice to be comforted by my mother, despite being 12/13 years old (technically). She sat me on the bed and took my hand in hers. “Show me Nessie” she prompted.

I looked at her. _Show her? With my gift?_

“But mom… I don’t… it’s just…. I”. My breathing was starting to become uneven. _Don’t cry. Don’t cry._ I started chanting in my head. My mom pulled me into her chest. “Shhh. Renesmee. It’s ok. Whatever you are going through. I’m here. And everything you show me is safe.” She pulled me back to look in my eyes and tapped on her forehead. “Everything is safe in the ‘vault’. Remember?”

My breathing evened and I smiled at her. It was an inside joke between us that her brain was somewhat of a “vault” that could keep secrets from people. Like my dad, or even the leader of the Volturi, _Aro_.

I shuttered slightly at his name. Visions of black coats flashed through my mind. If anyone wanted to keep something private from my father or the Volturi, she was the only being who could. Wasn’t that why Aunt Alice had confided in her to create an escape plan for me four years ago?

I nodded my head slightly, placed my right hand on her cheek, and opened the connection.

I showed her everything. All my frustration, anxiety, and confusion. Glimpses of the scenarios that created them. Everything I showed her had one denominator. One central focus.

_Jacob Black._

The tingles I felt through my body when he looked at me or smiled. The sensation in my hand when he held it on our walks. How I was suddenly concerned about my hair every time he came over. My self-consciousness about being “ladylike” when I hunted or ate human food. My demand to not go hunting with him once I figured there was no “ladylike” way to hunt an animal. The confusion about these changes. A few weeks ago I could “be myself” around Jake. But now I was so aware of everything I did around him. Aware of every little thing he did.

“Oh,” my mom said quietly. Taking my hand off her cheek to hold it in her hands. Her tone made it sound like she was surprised. _But not confused?_ I thought.

“Nessie,” she continued, slightly smiling at me. “You have a crush.” She said that like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

I blinked at her. _I have a...crush?_ I questioned internally. 

I did not completely comprehend the word “crush” in this context. My mind went into analytical mode. Something my brain did when I happened upon these types of foreign experiences. My quick development was sometimes a blessing and a curse. I had a lot of “book smarts,” but often didn’t understand simple social cues and norms that “normal” kids had the opportunity to learn through life experiences.

Due to my abnormal growth, I was destined to be isolated from humans for the first 6 years of my life. So my “life experience” was minimal at best.

Not that I minded. I knew it was for my protection and for the sake of secrecy. I was sure the fantasy world of vampires and werewolves would come crashing down if a normal human saw me developing 3 times the rate of a typical child. It was hard enough for Grandpa Charlie to comprehend it, and he was one of the few humans “in the know” about everything.

So, I had to work with what I had. 

The knowledge I accumulated from books and research.  
  
Words I previously read flashed through my mind. _The Webster dictionary definitions of a “crush” are as follows:_

**1\. To squeeze or force by pressure so as to alter or destroy structure.**

A faint memory of my mother crushing a rock in her hand flashed through my memory. _No...no. That didn’t make sense in this context. I didn’t want to physically crush Jacob. Next definition._

**2\. An intense and unusually passing infatuation.**

_Oh..._ Examples of this definition filtered into my mind from the “girly” (as Uncle Emmett put it) shows/movies the women of the family liked to watch together. Rory Gilmore came to mind, from the show I surprisingly enjoyed called the _Gilmore Girls_. Dean, Rory’s classmate, was _infatuated_ with her, which led to him kissing her at the supermarket.

I blushed.

_Does that mean I want to kiss Jacob?_ My blush deepened. No, that couldn’t be right. Because, in Rory’s scenario, she was also _infatuated_ with Dean. And Jacob was not _infatuated_ with me…. _Right?_

I filtered to another scenario from the movie _13 Going On 30_. The main character was Jenna, and she had a best friend named Matt. At the beginning of the movie, Matt had a _“crush”_ on Jenna, but she did not return the feeling. This seemed closer to my scenario. I had a _“crush”_... an _“infatuation”_ with Jake. But Jake did not have a _“crush”_ on me.

That had to be right. It made no sense any other way. I pondered. Then I considered the other part of the definition. _Unusually passing…_

_“Passing”… as in temporary… fleeting. Non-permanent…_ That didn’t seem right either.

My mom squeezed my hand, pulling me from my analysis. Something my family did often when I went into these states.

“Nessie? Honey?” She paused. Unsure if I was listening. I nodded slightly indicating that I was.

She continued, reiterating her point. “I think you have a crush...on Jacob.” I nodded slowly again, finally meeting her eyes, but not quite able to push back the blush that seemed etched onto my face. I had also come to this conclusion. But I had a new question. 

“Will my... “crush”... go away?” I asked her quietly. I wasn’t sure if her vampire hearing picked up my question. I picked at Jacob's bracelet nervously. Another habit of mine. 

My question didn’t exactly reflect my thoughts on “passing”. _Did a “crush” need to be temporary?_ But my mom smiled, knowingly. She had a strange ability to interpret my incoherent questions. 

“Well” she mused. “Sometimes a crush goes away...” I frowned, but she continued. “And sometimes it leads to...more”. I brightened at that. Although I wasn’t exactly sure why. 

The happiness I felt was fleeting however. There couldn’t be “more” because I just came to the conclusion that Jake did not have a “crush” on me. _How could he?_ I thought. _He’s a grown man. I’m a child. Any infatuation I showed towards him would probably be... revolting._

I gasped at my new revelation. It would be _disgusting_ to him. I was sure. I grasped my mom’s forearm. Pleading. “Mom, he can’t know!” I exclaimed. “This is… he can’t….”.

She clasped her other hand over mine. Calming me again. “Nessie, it’s ok,” she said fervently. “I’m the ‘vault’, remember. Just breathe.” I exhaled a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. She sat up suddenly with a look of realization on her face. 

“I’ll be right back.” She said. I blinked confused for a second, but she appeared a second later with a dark purple book in her hand. 

“Here” she said, handing me the book as she sat next to me again. I took it and flipped through it quickly. It was blank. Just lined pages. 

_A journal?_ I questioned internally. 

I looked up at her with confusion in my face, but she answered my unspoken question. “Use it to map out your feelings.” she suggested. “You said you were having a hard time sorting your thoughts, right?” I nodded. “ Well, I heard writing things down helps with that. Maybe... it could help you figure out what this… “crush” means to you.” 

I gaped at her suggestion. _Keep a journal? Did she forget that I have a father that can read minds?_ _Nothing was safe in this house. Nothing besides her mind._

“B-but dad…” I stuttered out. She squeezed my hand again, cutting me off. “Your father will not “hear” anything you put in this journal”. I raised my eyebrow, confused again. _Maybe I wasn’t as smart as I thought. Confusion seemed a permanent aspect of my thoughts nowadays._

“I will shield you,” she explained. “Anytime you need me too. Just tell me you need to write, and I will put up a shield.” 

“If you want. I can shield you all day and night if you need me too” she amended. 

I was taken aback. _She would be willing to do that for me? Doesn’t that take a lot of energy to keep up her shield for that long?_

“Of course I would be willing to do that Nessie. I love you.” She answered my thoughts, putting her hand to my face. “And you’d be surprised how long I can keep my shield up now” she grinned wide. “I’ve been practicing. My record is three days straight.”

I gaped at her. I didn’t remember saying my question out loud. I looked down and saw that I had unintentionally wrapped my hand around her in comfort. My palm was touching hers. 

Well this was a development. For the past four years of my life, I would only show people my thoughts/feelings by touching my palms to their face. Now apparently, any contact with my palm would do. 

_Guess I need to be careful about touching Jake with my hands from now on… Talk about bad timing._

Mom chuckled to herself. I looked down again and released my hand from hers. _Crap_. 

“I guess that is an unfortunate development for your… uh… situation” she bit back a grin. I frowned at her. _Was it really the time to be joking around?_

“So what do you think of our deal?” she asked. Bringing my attention to her original offer. I paused for only a second to make my decision and nodded my head fervently. 

“Let's do it.” 

XxX

So there I was the following Monday night, writing “I have a crush” in my journal like a silly school girl.

At this rate, I would be writing in my journal every night. Jake was only back for one day, and I couldn’t even think straight.

_God, I was hopeless._

After some deliberation with my mom, we came up with the code phrase, “I’m heading to bed,” to indicate when she needed to put up a shield. She said it was something she said to Grandpa Charlie a lot when she needed time alone, and giving me time to think freely at night seemed like a good idea.

We also agreed to tell dad the partial truth. I was... “maturing”...and needed my “own space” to think. Mom said she was pretty good at “convincing” dad about letting her do “things”. I thought to ask her more about what she meant by “convincing”, but my instincts told me not to “analyze” that comment.

Even with all of my mom’s help, I couldn’t “sort” through my thoughts. I was just staring at the nearly blank paper with the four words written on it. Suddenly, something my mom said came back to me.

_“Use it to map out your thoughts.”_

Maybe that meant I needed to put things in order? Go with what I know and go from there? I sighed, putting my pen down next to my short sentence.

_It was worth a shot._ I mused. 

I added three words to my sentence. The facts. The truth.

**I have a crush on Jacob Black.**

My thoughts flew onto the page after that.

_**Comments and Critics are Welcomed! -GG** _


End file.
